


I Shit You Not

by Lani Danaë (yd203286)



Series: Anaia Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-05-16 00:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yd203286/pseuds/Lani%20Dana%C3%AB
Summary: Potter is going to have quite a story to tell with the next 7 years at Hogwarts especially when you add in some godly friends.DISCONTINUED AND BEING REWRITTEN. I DON'T LIKE IT, SO I'M REDOING IT.





	1. Disclaimer

~Timeline stuff~

Takes place in 1991

Luke is 5 at the time

Percy hasn't been born yet

Nico and Bianca are still in the Lotus Hotel.

I refuse to alter the timeline 20 years. It's weird. I still plan on bringing in some of the demigods you know and love, but it will be on my terms.

Disclaimer: I don't have the raw creativity it takes to create the two beautiful worlds that are apart of this story.


	2. In which, we get a new witch.

~3rd person pov~

Anaia Quinn Potter sat groggily at the breakfast bar, eating a bowl of cereal. She had never been a morning person, often staying up so late into the night that she could hear the songbirds waking up to start the day. Needless to say, she was exhausted, but that was nothing new. She stared absentmindedly at the wall for a while when a hand suddenly came in contact with her face.

"Pbbt," she made a strange noise before looking up at the culprit. "Oh, good morning, Father."

"Morning, Quinnny. What are your plans for today, dear?" Her father, Kenneth Potter, asked while scanning the newspaper in his hand. Anaia loved her father more than anyone on the planet and, despite the trouble that seemed to follow her, he loved her.

Anaia had been a handful growing up and she knew she wasn't the easiest person to talk to. She couldn't count the amount of times her father had to come to school because she had been thrown out of class. She had never been good at thinking before she spoke, or rather, she had never been good at thinking twice before she spoke. She almost always said the first thing that popped into her head, no matter how ill-timed it seemed. Most of her teachers found it exasperating to say the least. Despite her bad talking habits, she was a quiet girl. She had a hard time trusting people and would rather be alone than with a group of friends. Not that she had enough friends to create a group. Her classmates thought she was rude and standoffish and only associated with her when absolutely necessary.

There was only one person besides her father that didn't immediately judge her, at least not negatively. Her best and only friend, Lila Hunter, was a little firecracker. She was expressive and popular and loyal to those she cared about. She had been the one person to come and talk to her when she started school. Lila was 2 years older than Anaia and incredibly smart. She was almost perfect in Anaia eyes. Her only problem was her time management skills. They were non existent and Anaia could help but wonder how she managed to keep such good grades.

"I was hoping we could go school shopping, since I have to go back there," she said quietly, staring at her now mushy cereal.

Just as her father opened his mouth to respond, a soft thud was heard through the house. Her dad's girlfriend, Michelle, came running in not a second later.

"Kenneth, dear, what was that? You're not hurt, are you?"

Kenneth left and returned from the living room a moment later, followed by an owl. It would have been gorgeous, had it not been ruffled from running into the window. It was grey with piercing yellow eyes that seemed to dart around the room nervously. Michelle was terrified of it.

"Why do you have an owl following you?! What's it doing in our house?!" Michelle shrieked, obviously distressed by the owl's presence.

"Now calm down, dear. I think the letter it's holding will answer your questions." Anaia was sitting off to the side, wondering how her father could be so calm in this situation.

The owl flew around a bit as if looking for something before coming to a rest on the counter. Directly in front of Anaia. It stared at her with its bright eyes before holding up his leg. Anaia was surprised to see that the leg had an envelope tied to it. She slowly reached out and removed the envelope from its leg.

"What's it say, Quinny?" She practically hear the excitement in her father's voice.

"It says, 'Anaia Potter, Second Stool, 1905 Lapis Ln, Virginia Beach'." To say she was confused was an understatement. Slowly she turned and quietly said, "Father? What is this?"

Kenneth simply waved his hands and said, "Keep reading," practically vibrating with poorly concealed excitement.

"Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft?"

"Yes! My darling girl, you and I are wizards!"

"WIZARDS?!" They had forgotten that Michelle was there. They turned to see her gaping like a fish while simultaneously steaming with anger.

"Yes, dear, I'm a wizard," her father said slowly, afraid to further anger her.

Seeming to have calmed down just a little, Michelle growled, "And when were you planning on telling me?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything unless Quinny was a wizard too, besides, muggles aren't supposed to know about us."

That caught Anaia's attention. "What are muggles?" She said quietly, though it seemed almost loud in the deafening silence the kitchen had fallen into.

"Muggles are non-magical people, such as Michelle."

At that point, Michelle was about ready to explode and quickly stomped out of the house saying she was going to work.

"So I'm a wizard?"

Her father nodded.

"Does Mom know?"

He opened and closed his mouth several times before saying, "Kinda? She once told me that my soul was brighter than normal mortals but I'm not sure if she actually knew."

You see, earlier that summer, Anaia had learned that her mother was the goddess Demeter. You'd imagine that a child would be pretty shocked to find out that they were the descendant of a Greek goddess but Anaia wasn't. She was confused at first but not shocked. She had always known that she was too different from her classmates to be normal, she had simply learned one reason why. With that in mind, she decided that being a wizard was just another reason to add to the list.

"Should I tell her?"

Kenneth thought for a bit before shaking his head. "You know how busy your mother gets towards the end of summer. It'd be best not to bother her."

She looked at the list of things she'd need for the year before looking up at her father, confusion clearly written on her face. "Where are we going to get any of this stuff?"

"That's a surprise."

~3rd person pov~

"This," her father said, glowing with pride. "Is Diagon Alley."

Anaia couldn't believe her eyes. There were so many shops and so many people. She could see excited children running around tired parents and older students bustling in and out of shops. Her ADHD wouldn't allow her to focus on one thing for long before something else caught her attention. Kenneth seemed to puff up a bit at the sparkle in his daughter's eyes.

"This is an entirely new world," she said still in awe of everything she was seeing.

"Come on, how about we get to the bank and then get to shopping?" Anaia eagerly nodded before being led to a snowy white building that towered over the little shops. Outside it's bronze doors was a short creature in a scarlet and gold uniform. They came to a second pair of doors, these being silver, with words engraved on them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed,

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Inside was a vast marble hall, filled with goblins and wizards and more doors than she could count. Her father walked up to the counter, where a goblin was sitting on a high stool.

"Hello, sir. I would like to make a withdrawal," Kenneth said holding a silver key.

Soon, they were in a small cart hurtling at breakneck speed towards the vault. Anaia couldn't help but think that the cart seemed to have a mind of its own as it steered them through a blurry maze of passages. She caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a dragon as they went deeper underground.

When the cart finally stopped, they were in front of a door. Anaia almost gasped as the goblin unlocked the door revealing more money than she thought she had the right to have access to.

Her father chuckled saying, "I'm a pureblood and my parents are dead, so this is now entirely ours."

After filling a small purse with more coins than ought to fit in it, they were back out in the blinding sunlight.

"Let's get your wand first, shall we?" Kenneth asked, making his way to a shop that was narrow and shabby. Over the door was a sign that read 'Ollivaders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.' in peeling gold letters.

It was a painfully small building filled to the brim with thousands of narrow boxes and a single chair. Anaia was mesmerized by the place. There were no words to explain it. She simply liked it. Her eyes landed on an old man with wide, pale eyes that seemed to glow in the gloomy shop.

"Hello, Miss Potter, I was beginning to wonder if you were coming at all."

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander. It's so nice to see you again," Kenneth said politely, as it had been ages since he came as a small 11 year old to get his wand.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Eight and a half inches. Cedar. Swishy. Dragon heartstring, I believe?" Kenneth nodded, amazed at how to old man could remember them all. "Now, how about we get Miss Potter a good wand?"

After eight tries and a few lost eyebrows, she walked out with a holly wand, swishy, nine and one-half inches long with a core of merfolk hair. She was almost giddy with excitement. She really was a wizard and she had the wand to prove it.


	3. In which, the fucking hat sings.

~3rd person pov~

Kenneth and Anaia Potter stood on platform nine and three-quarters looking around with very different expressions. Kenneth was wide eyed and ecstatic. He had forgotten how much he loved the wizarding world. Anaia's expression was a collage of wonder, nervousness, disgust, and a hint of fear.

She could hear snippets of conversations all around her, from a group of older students yelling about a spider, to a redhead that seemed to be her age mumbling about older brothers. It was almost too much to process and she had to remember how to breathe.

Kenneth helped her get her trunk onto the train before tightly hugging her goodbye and telling her to send him a letter as soon as she got situated. Anaia, who was anxiously fidgeting with her poppy flower crown, wandered onto the train and found a compartment with only a couple of people in it. She sat in the corner and placed the kitten her father had bought for her on her lap. He was a stormy grey color with wide amber eyes that seemed to question everything around him. She had decided to name him Lucian.

The students around her chatted throughout the ride occasionally asking her questions to which she would give short, concise answers. She hadn't bothered to learn their names when they introduced themselves knowing that it would be a waste of time.

She had been staring out the window at the steadily darkening sky for some time when a girl with bushy, brown hair slid the door to their compartment open.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost his." Anaia thought that she seemed rather bossy and could tell that she was a mom friend.

She went back to staring out the window, vaguely hearing the girl say that they should get dressed before leaving. After the boys had left the compartment, she pulled her new Hogwarts robes over her dress and fixed the position of her flower crown. She didn't like that it was such a bland color, preferring her simple blue dress to the school's boring uniform.

After a few more interruptions to her daydreaming by a blond kid and his friends talking about some kid named Harry, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

The train began to slow down before coming to a stop at a tiny, dark platform. They had finally arrived at Hogwarts. Following the other students off the train, Anaia turned when she heard a loud voice yelling, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" They were directed to a great black lake and told to get in a boat. Anaia ended up in a boat with the blond kid and his two friends.

The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Everyone was quiet, staring up at the great castle overhead. Anaia was sure she heard someone whistle. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered up onto rocks and pebbles.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes. She pulled the door wide and inside was an entrance hall bigger than most of the schools Anaia had gone to. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor to an empty chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you're here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

While McGonagall continued to explain the four houses, Anaia started to daydream. Her thoughts drifting off into what secrets the castle holds and what classes would be like. At some point, the girl with bushy hair started talking to her about spells she had learned and which ones she would need for the sorting. Anaia decided that she liked her. Hermione was smart and interesting to talk to even though she was a little too proud of herself. Anaia looked around when she heard someone scream.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. Anaia found them intriguing and reached an arm up, shivering when her hand went straight through it. Soon Professor McGonagall returned and one by one, the ghosts floated through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Standing behind Hermione, Anaia followed the group of trembling children into the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. For a while everyone stared at it in complete silence. Then it began to sing.

Anaia's face lit up. She almost couldn't believe the hat was singing. She was so busy trying to figure out how it could possibly be singing that she didn't even hear the song. She only realized that it was over when the hall burst into applause.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall said holding a long roll of parchment. "Abbott, Hannah!"

The girl stumbled out of line, her pigtails trailing behind her, and went to go sit on the stool. The hat was placed on her head and after a moment-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. McGonagall continued going through the list sorting children into their homes for the next 7 years. Hermione ended up in Gryffindor and waved at Anaia as she ran to join her table.

"Potter, Harry"

'WHAT?!' That was her first thought upon hearing the name of her cousin. 'But- but we thought he died!' Whispers broke out around the hall as Harry made his way to the stool. The last thing he saw before the hat went over his eyes was the hall full of people staring at him.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats trying to see which house Harry would sorted into. It seemed to have been a century before the sorting hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!" The red and gold table erupted into to cheers, chanting ,"We got Potter! We got Potter!" Anaia was in a daze for the rest of sorting. She couldn't believe it. Her cousin was alive! Soon, she was the last person standing there.

"This year, we have a student joining us from America at the request of her father," Professor McGonagall held out the list and clearly said, "Potter, Anaia."

If Anaia hadn't noticed the stares before, she definitely noticed them now. These kids had grown up being told that Harry was the last Potter in England. Harry was shocked to see someone who could be related to him. Anaia took a deep breath and walked towards the stool. The hat dipped over her eyes and she heard a voice in her head.

'Hello, Miss Potter.'

'Hello, Mr. Hat.'

'You must be quite shocked to learn that your cousin is alive.'

'Shocked would be the understatement of the century.'

'Let's see. You're a brilliant girl, though not in the traditional way. You seem to enjoy proving people wrong and you've got a nice bit of cunning in there. Is there anywhere you like to be?'

'Just place me wherever you feel I would be my best.'

'Well then, it'd better be' "SLYTHERIN!"

The hall was stunned. A Potter in both Gryffindor and Slytherin. After a prolonged moment of silence, the Slytherin table started clapping. Anaia slowly walked over to her new house and sat down. She didn't hear Dumbledore's speech. She just picked at her food, trying to understand everything that had happened. Suddenly, there was a tap on her shoulder and she turned to see the little blond.

"Draco Malfoy," he said holding out his hand. "So, are related to Potter?"

"He's kinda my cousin, but I thought he was dead," she said quietly.

"Dead? How could you not know that the oh-so-great Harry Potter defeated the dark lord when he was a baby?" Malfoy said mockingly.

"Well, my father knew that his parents had died due to Voldemort," she paused when the people around her visibly flinched, "but he had assumed that Harry was killed as well."

"Are you a pure blood?"

"Yes but I wasn't aware of it because my father chose to have me live in the muggle world, so I have no knowledge of wizards." Anaia was starting to get very uncomfortable with all the attention. Just then, the Bloody Baron floated over and sat right next to Malfoy, who had a mini heart attack before composing himself. The Slytherin ghost had blank eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. Anaia was resisting every urge to ask how he got so bloody, while simultaneously wishing to be in her dorm already.

She looked over at the Gryffindor table and saw Harry next to one of the many redheads scattered around the Gryffindor table. He was looking around the room and made eye contact with her. She waved, earning the attention of Malfoy.

"Who are you waving at?" He asked looking on the direction her wave was pointed at. "Potter? Had you even met him before today?"

"Well, um, no, and technically, I still haven't actually met him. We simply know of each other's existence now."

Finally, after everyone had finished eating, Dumbledore stood up, earning immediate silence from the students.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

There was a spatter of giggles before they realized that he was serious.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snake like, into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!"

It was ridiculous. The entire school sang this song to different rhythms and all ended separately. Anaia, Zabini, and Malfoy spent the entirety trying not to laugh too loudly. When it was over, the prefects escorted them to their common rooms. They followed the older Slytherin down stairs and along corridors, while Anaia looked at every moving portrait on the way. She had missed out on so much of the wizarding world.

They climbed through a portrait that acted as the entrance to the common room. It was perfect. It was elegant and comfortable and the color scheme seemed calming to Anaia. She followed Parkinson up to the first year girls dorm room and found her trunk in front of the bed closest to the door. She sat on her new bed, running her hands over the emerald green curtains, before deciding she ought to get ready to sleep.

After showering, Anaia sat on her bed in her blue tank top and black shorts, wide awake. She sighed, getting out a book and her earbuds to maybe make the hours go by faster while Lucian cuddled up next to her. As it neared 2 in the morning, she drifted off, earbud cord hanging limply from her lips, into a dreamless slumber.


	4. In which, we start flying.

~Anaia's pov~

'I'm going to lose my mind here!'

The Slytherins have been whispering since I got here and it was driving me crazy. They keep walking up to me and asking questions and I can't answer them. I follow the crowd of green-clad children to the Great Hall, trying my hardest to hide. As I near the hall, I can hear the whispers getting louder and louder, but no one else seems to notice.

'Oh gods, I'm going insane!'

I sat down and started eating cereal because that's what I always do. I've only ever eaten cereal for breakfast for as long as I can remember, even before I learned that Demeter was my mom. It's a little weird having my mom be the goddess of cereal but most things about me are a little weird. Suddenly, the whispers start up again and I look up to none other than Harry Potter himself. Last night, I had decided I should learn a bit about my cousin and read some stuff. It's odd that he's considered a hero for something he probably can't even remember.

Looking at my time table, I realize I have Double Potions with the Gryffindors today. I quickly finish my cereal and start walking to the potions classroom. I could proudly say that I learned the layout of the school earlier than most first years simply because I hate being lost. It makes me feel helpless and who wants to be a helpless demigod?

I had turned twelve two days ago and my father had sent me a little charm. It was the number 12 and I put it on my bracelet, replacing the 11 that I had gotten last year. It was a little tradition my father started when I turned four. I have all my past charms in a little box in dorm.

'I should ask Professor Flitwick for a charm to protect my box.' As I was thinking this the class started to fill up. I could see Harry with the redhead and smiled when they waved. Snape took role before launching into his speech about the glories of potions. I drifted off, staring at the torches that lined the walls.

"Potter!" I shot up like a bullet. It took me a few seconds to realize he was looking at Harry. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

"I don't know, sir."

"Tut, tut-fame clearly isn't everything." Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

I could tell Harry had no idea what to say. Draco and his bodyguards were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape was enjoying this far too much. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione stood up and I couldn't help it, I started laughing. It was impossible not to at this point.

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

"Sit down," the bat snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment as I placed mine down. I had been writing the entire time he was talking. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

As the lesson went on, Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, who he seemed to like.

Then there was screaming. One of the little Gryffindors, Neville I think, somehow managed to melt a cauldron. Most of us didn't even think before we started standing on our stools. The potion was spreading across the floor while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville looked absolutely miserable as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at another Gryffindor. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to and the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point from Gryffindor."

Harry looked like he was going to protest but Ron kicked him.

An hour later, potions was over and I watched all the Gryffindors leave the dungeons before heading to the library with Hermione. The two of us had become pretty good friends and spent most of our free time in the library. Though I have a hard time reading English, a side effect of being a demigod, I loved being in the library.

"So what do we have to do today," I ask as I sit down with the book I've been trying to get through for almost two weeks.

"Not much," she says before looking at my book. "Still reading that?"

"Yep. It's getting easier but it's still infuriatingly hard." We stay there reading and studying until Hermione's next class. After she leaves, I go outside to find a secluded spot to train in. I couldn't very well explain to a normal child that I'm training to fight monsters, so I just train in hiding.

~3rd person pov~

Harry, Ron, Anaia, and Malfoy all stared at the notice pinned their common rooms. Harry was hating his life. Ron and Draco were disgusted by the thought of having Gryffindors and Slytherins together in flying lessons. Anaia was fiddling with her flower crown and praying to every god she knew that this wouldn't end in disaster.

At breakfast, Malfoy sauntered over to the Gryffindor table and snatched a small red ball out of Neville's hand. Harry and Ron immediately jumped to their feet, ready to defend Neville, but McGonagall spotted them and was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. The Slytherins were already there, so we're twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground.

The teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Quickly, they all found a broom and some (mostly Gryffindors) were looking at the old brooms with distrust.

"Stick your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Anaia's slowly rose before settling itself in her outstretched hand. She didn't even want to question why it behaved like that. She just hoped Zeus was in a good mood today.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. The shock on Malfoy's face when she told him he'd been doing it wrong for years was priceless.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a couple meters, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - one - two -"

As always, Neville had to be the one to fuck up. He pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle. Harry saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his wrist. She helped him to his feet before turning to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

~Anaia's pov~

No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" he said, earning laughter from most of the Slytherins, excluding me.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a horridly annoying Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

'Oh my fucking gods what is wrong with these first years?'

"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching something off the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. All the rest of the nosy little first years stopped talking to watch.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Draco had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. For someone who boasts so much about stuff he can't actually do, it was nice to see he could actually fly well. He hovered level with the top branches of an oak tree and called, "Come get it, Potter!"

And I shit you not, Harry grabbed his broom.

I went to stand by Hermione, who was muttering about how much of an idiot Harry is. I couldn't help but agree despite the fact that he was a natural in the air. You couldn't even tell that it was his first time flying.

Everyone gasped as Harry shot towards Draco, who barely got out of the way in time. People started clapping, then suddenly Draco threw the ball into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry dived for the ball. People screamed and Ron looked excited and terrified at the same time. Right before he hit the ground, he caught it, just in time to pull broom straight, and toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!" That was the sound of imminent death. "Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil -"

"But Malfoy -"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

We all watched Harry trail behind McGonagall, like a prisoner on his way to execution. Draco and his goons looked just a little too smug.

"There. Now we've got one less idiot ruining Hogwarts' reputation."


	5. In which, friendships are strengthen and built.

~3rd pov~

Malfoy sashayed from the Gryffindor table with a look of pride on his face that hid the well masked worry he felt inside.

"You're looking extra proud of yourself. What's the news?" Anaia questioned when he sat across from her.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know-"

"Yes, Draco. That's why I asked."

"Oh," the little blond said as he stared blankly. He wasn't used to be cut off like that. "Well, since you want to know so badly, I'll tell you. I just challenged Potter to a wizarding duel."

"What." That was her oh-so-eloquent response to the new information.

"I said-"

"I know what you said! I was just wondering how you could possibly be so stupid," Anaia snapped. "You don't even know enough magic to duel. What are you gonna do? Shoot sparks at each other?"

Malfoy sat there for a moment, gaping like a fish, before he got his brain working again.

"Of course not! I'm not going to duel him. I'm going to tell Filch and get him in trouble," he said, with every bit of Malfoy pride.

"So you're gonna tattle?"

"It's not tattling! It's helping to rid the school of that pest."

"Said pest happens to be my cousin."

"So? You probably haven't even had a proper conversation with him."

After staring at Malfoy for a few long uncomfortable seconds, she said, "Touche," then got up and left the flabbergasted blondie at the table.

~Time skip brought to you by Zeus's peacock~

~Anaia's pov~

I can't sleep. At this point, I've given up trying before midnight. Due to how boring staring at the walls for five hours can be, I've taken to wondering the halls at night. The castle is a lot different at night without the endless amount of children. Even the ghosts are gone. Can ghosts sleep? Eh, who cares?

Earlier Draco made sure Filch knew that someone would be in the trophy room tonight then skipped off to bed like a pretty princess. Honestly, how is this child the Slytherin prince? Anyway, because of that, I'm staying far away from the trophy room. Filch seems to have a huge problem with me. Something about stupid Potters always wondering the halls. I wasn't really eavesdropping. I just happened to hear the conversation.

I was walking around by the Hufflepuff dorms when I heard the yelling. I had just left the kitchens, my new favorite place in the castle. The house elves are SO nice and they let me bake anytime I want. Way to go, Anaia. You went on another tangent. Anywho, I was by the kitchens so I wasn't really nervous about being caught, but I still decided that it would be best to keep moving. I started walking back to the dungeons and heard:

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

I quickly hurried back to the entrance for my common room and ran in. I collapsed on the couch and just stared at the ceiling for a few minutes.

Cough cough

I don't have the mental energy to care who that is.

Cough cough

I look up and say, "Leave me alone," before bothering to check who it was. Turns out it was the blondie.

"Now, now. Is that anyway to speak to the Slytherin prince?" he teased with a grin on his face.

"Prince," I snorted. "As if. More like sheltered brat, but I suppose I could handle being in your presence for a little while."

"So, what are you doing out here. Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked while plopping down next to me.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Couldn't sleep, so I wondered around the halls for a bit. By the way, Filch might have caught Harry because he was doing a lot of running around out there." At that, Draco lit up.

"Wonderful! Someone needs to put golden boy in his place."

"I would ask why you have such a problem with my cousin but I'm too tired for that. I'll ask some other time. Maybe in like a month," I mumbled burying my head in my arms.

"You should probably head back to your dorm-"

"Too lazy. Don't wanna."

"Well you can't just lay there."

"And why the Hades can I not?"

"I don't know! Someone might prank you, or something."

"That just means you have to stay here and protect me."

"And why should I?"

"Because I said so."

"But-"

It was too late. I had already laid my head on his lap and drifted off to sleep. He'll be fine. It's not like this'll kill him.

~Anaia's pov~

Apparently, my dear cousin got a broomstick. Draco was seething when he came back to the Great Hall, talking about how unfair it is that the great Harry Potter gets to disregard all the rules. I'd be annoyed by all the complaining if it wasn't cute. Honestly, he's like a little kitten sometimes and he thinks he's intimidating. Maybe he is. I am a demigod after all, maybe it just doesn't affect me.

Hermione and I have been doing our homework in the library almost everyday now. She's been complaining about how mean Harry and the Weasley are. I let her tell me everything without saying a word because I know how annoying kids can be. I don't understand why they have such a problem with her, cause like, Hermione's great. She's smart and sweet and says hilarious things under her breath. She reminds me of Leanne. I- No. You are going going to depress yourself right now Anaia. Leanne is gone and there's nothing you can do about it.

Halloween morning came and I immediately wished to be literally anywhere else. I could smell the pumpkin all the way in my dorm. Rather begrudgingly, I sulked down to the Great Hall and was hit with the full force of the pumpkin smell.

'You've got to be kidding me.'

I quickly hurried off to class without even bothering to get any food. I just wanted to be as far away from that smell as I could possibly get. It was just too much for me to handle.

I spent most of the day joking with Draco before heading to the library to meet Hermione like I always do. However, she wasn't there. I waited for a bit but demigods aren't known for their patience. I started asking around, trying to find out if anyone had seen her. Eventually, I pieced together that she had been hiding out in the bathroom for hours, crying her eyes out.

I hurried towards the girls bathroom, not even caring about dinner. My best friend was in emotional distress and she wasn't about to deal with it on her own. The bathroom door made a loud bang when I ran in, startling Hermione, who was camped out in a corner of the bathroom, sulking.

"Anaia! Um, I'm not, I mean you didn't, I- I'm fine," she said hurriedly, trying to cover up the evidence. "You should go enjoy the feast."

"Mione, you're obviously not fine," I said, walking over to her. "What happened?"

"It was nothing. I'm fine," she mumbled, lowering her head.

'Ughhh this is getting exasperating!'

"Hermione Jean Granger! You know full well that you're not fine, and as your best friend and chief advisor on all aspects of your health, I demand that you tell me what happened." She stared at me blankly for a few seconds before giggling.

"Ok ok I'll tell you. You know about how irritating Harry and Ron are, right?" I nodded. "Well, I guess what Ron said today really hurt me."

"What did he say?" At this point, there was no trying to hide how concerned I was. I'm not used to having friends so I always protect the ones I have.

"He said that I'm a nightmare and that it's no wonder I haven't got any friends..." I just stared at her which was probably making her uncomfortable. "I know that I should be used to it by-"

"No. You shouldn't have to be used to this. I don't care that they're just children, Hermione, you shouldn't be conditioned to the insults. It should never get to the point of where you are numb to it." She opened her mouth to say something but whatever is was died before it even got a chance. In front of us was a fucking troll.

Before I could even process what I was looking at, Hermione screamed. I hurried to put my hand over her mouth but the damage had been done. That scream caught the troll's attention and it started walking towards us. Can you even call this walking?

I saw Harry and Ron run in as the thing continued to stumbled towards us. It was knocking the sinks off the walls as it went and I could tell Hermione was about to faint.

"Oy, pea-brain!" I'm not sure if Ron is really brave or really stupid. I let the boys deal with the troll while I struggle to keep Hermione conscious.

Harry ran up to us and yelled, "Come on, run, run!" while trying to pull Hermione towards the door.

"Hey," he looked at me, confusion clearly written on his face. "Go help Ron with the troll and I'll handle my best friend." I went back to trying to calm Hermione. The girl had started hyperventilating and to tell you the truth, it was freaking me out, but I had to remain calm for her sake.

I heard Harry yell "Wingardium Leviosa!" and just like that the troll was down. We were all silent for a few minutes. Just trying to comprehend what just happened. Hermione was the first to speak.

"Is it - dead?"

"I don't think so," Harry said, "I think it's just been knocked out."

Harry yanked his wand from the troll's nose, complaining about troll boogers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made all of us jump. Of course, fighting a troll had made a ton of sound but the others looked like they hadn't even thought of that. A moment later, McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear.

Snape bent over the troll. McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry looked like he was ready to piss himself.

"What on Earth were you thinking of?" said McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. I have never been so glad that I'm not a Gryffindor. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Harry looked like a kicked puppy and the look Snape was giving him wasn't helping. Then something unbelievable happened.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."

Hermione "goody two shoes" Granger was lying to a teacher. And for the jerks that got her in here in the first place! I want to remember this for the rest of my life.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry and Ron were trying, and failing, to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well - in that case..." said McGonagall, staring at her lions, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. I was going to have a long talk with her about why she was doing this.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said McGonagall. "I am very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Before Hermione could leave, I grabbed her elbow and whispered "Wait for me." McGonagall turned to Ron and Harry.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

I watched them run out of the chamber like their lives depended on it. McGonagall turned to me.

"Snape, I will let you decide what to do with her."

Snape looked at me as of he was trying to intimidate me. It didn't work. "Miss Potter, why were you in here seeing as Granger did not explain your being here?"

"Hermione's my best friend. She was missing so I went to look for her. No more. No less."

"Hm, well then hurry off to the dormitory while we fix this mess." I smiled and briskly walked out without another word. I found Hermione a little ways down the hall waiting for me.

"Hey. Did you get punished?"

"Nope. I didn't get rewarded either."

"Oh."

"Hermione?" She looked up at me. There were still tear streaks on her cheeks from earlier. I quickly hugged her. "Please remember that I'll always listen to you, ok?"

She nodded and we said our goodbyes. I didn't bother looking at the feast or any of the other children when I climbed through the portrait hole. Draco was asking me questions but I just brushed him off. I was too tired to be interrogated. I climbed into my bed without bothering to change and immediately fell into a dreamless slumber.


	6. In which, Anaia becomes a hermit.

Anaia's pov~

Hermione had become friends with Harry and Ron after the fiasco that was Halloween. It didn't really bother me. It only meant that I'd be seeing her less. People always move on when they find new friends. It's nothing I'm not used to already. Well, that makes me sound pathetic. Good job, Anaia.

Whenever I got to see Hermione, she would talk about how excited Harry was for quidditch. Him being on the team was supposed to be a secret but this is Hogwarts, secrets don't exist.

It was starting to get cold. Like really cold. It gets cold during the winter in Virginia but not nearly as cold as it gets in Scotland. And it's only November! I'm not gonna live to see spring. Anyway, it's November which means Harry spends too much time practising to do his homework. Hermione's been helping Ron and Harry with their work and finding Harry books about quidditch.

Snape has been getting slowly more irritable. I wonder what's up with him. Apparently, Harry saw Snape's leg all bloody and mangled. Ron and him seem to think that Snape let the troll in. I choose not to offer an opinion because I don't judge people. Jumping to conclusions never ends well.

I had been eating less and less lately, choosing to spend my time in the library. I ate lunch with the rest of my house occasionally and I'd normally be dragged to dinner by Pansy. She seems to think it's wrong for me not to eat with the Slytherins.

As the first quidditch game of the season rolled around, it became all that anyone could talk about. Every moment they had to spare was spent on excited gossip about the game coming up. Draco had gotten many of the Slytherins to bad mouth my cousin with him, which didn't bother me. I honestly couldn't care less about quidditch. It was all anyone could talk about. Like honestly, do wizards have any other sports?

I didn't even want to go to the first game but Draco says that it's a Slytherin's duty to support their house mates, so here I am. At a quidditch game. Hooray! Don't get me wrong, watching people fly around on those brooms is amazing. I just don't get why everyone thinks it's so important.

I could hear some older Gryffindor commentating on the game. Hearing doesn't mean I actually listened, so I was a little startled when everyone around me started whining. Apparently, Gryffindor scored. I watched a little longer before Harry dived for the snitch, closely followed by our seeker, only to be cut off by Flint. The Gryffindors screamed in outrage as Harry desperately clung to his broomstick.

As the game continued, I got up and made my way to the ground. Being around so many screaming children gave me a headache. I decided to stand by the exit and finish watching the game, so that I could leave quickly if I needed to.

Harry's broom started acting weirdly. It looked sort of like an angry horse, trying to buck him off. It took awhile for the others to notice Harry. The broom was carrying him higher and higher and people began pointing as they noticed his predicament. Then the broom started rolling over and over as if it was actually trying to drop him from that height. Soon he was barely hanging on. I could see everyone holding their breaths waiting to see what would happen next. It was as if the entire world stopped to watch Harry Potter die.

'Do something!'

Like what?

'I don't care! Just go save him!'

He's a million feet in the air and I don't fly.

'Ok now you're making excuses. Do you really want to see your cousin plummet to his death before you get to know him?'

Wow. Ok. I'm not going to sit here and guilt trip myself. Not today.

I don't know what happened during my mental argument with my conscience but during that time, Harry had managed to gain control of his broom. The golden boy sped toward the ground looking as if he was going to puke. He hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in confusion. Flint complained all night that it wasn't fair. Harry almost swallowed it and that hardly counts as catching.

~3rd POV~

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid but that didn't stop its inhabitants from swimming past the Slytherin windows. Kenneth Potter managed to send Anaia some dragon hide gloves and her winter scarves after hearing about how cold she was all the time.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. Anaia was staying because her father thought that every first year should experience Christmas at Hogwarts. Professor Snape's class has become almost unbearably frigid and Draco's taunting wasn't helping the pleasant atmosphere.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

"Malfoy's a git," Hermione huffed.

"Yes, but so is Ronald," Anaia says, stirring the cauldron.

The puffy-haired Gryffindor looked startled for a second before becoming confused and slightly defensive, "He's not as bad as Malfoy though."

"Really? As I see it, they're practically the same. They're both prejudiced purebloods who stick to their beliefs like super glue without ever considering the other side's point of view. The biggest difference is that Ron was raised right, not that he uses it well."

Hermione was speechless, unable to think of a response fast enough, she returned to her potion.

It was true that Malfoy was blatantly obvious that he was talking about Harry, who was trying to ignore him. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fit tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron - the idiot - dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushes roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking. Anaia followed after them, waving her hand, magically putting the needles back on the tree. She didn't realize anyone had seen her do it, but Harry had.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him -"

"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the three of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me - Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? But keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it. It's nothing to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

~Anaia's POV~

Once the holidays had started, I was left as the only Slytherin in all of Hogwarts. And let me tell you, I loved it. I had the entire dorm to myself and I could sit wherever I wanted. I had music playing ALL day and slept in the common room in front of the fire.

I rarely left the dorm during the day. I had the house elves bring me food whenever it was necessary to eat and I wandered around at night when no one was awake. I visited the forbidden forest and my secret area to train a lot more since there was no one to stop me. I don't understand how people are afraid of the forbidden forest. It's great in there.

On Christmas Eve, I went to sleep on the comfiest sofa in the common room looking forward to eating an actual meal on Christmas. I woke up the next day to a pile of presents. I didn't bother opening them and went to get dressed for the day.

I decided to see how Harry would react to my gift to him and snuck into the Gryffindor common room. I say snuck but I really just politely asked the portrait if I could visit my cousin. As I neared the boys' room, I could hear Ron.

"Weird!" He said fascinated, "What a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle - who sent these?"

"I think I know who this one's from," said Ron, turning a hot pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

He opened a few more presents before getting to mine. It was wrapped in black paper with little snitches on it. He looked confused as he carefully unwrapped it. Inside was a book with a note on top. He placed the book on his lap and began reading the note aloud:

Dear Harry,

I know we haven't said much to each other other than hi, but Merry Christmas. A few weeks ago, my father sent me a notebook that belonged to his uncle - your grandfather. He thought it would make a wonderful Christmas present for you since you didn't get to know your family. It has a lot of stories about your father as a child and what it was like to raise him.

I hope you enjoy your first Christmas with your Hogwarts family.

Yours Truly,

Anaia Q. Potter


	7. In which, christmas happens.

~3rd person pov~

Dear Harry,

I know we haven't said much to each other other than hi, but Merry Christmas. A few weeks ago, my father sent me a notebook that belonged to his uncle - your grandfather. He thought it would make a wonderful Christmas present for you since you didn't get to know your family. It has a lot of stories about your father as a child and what it was like to him.

I hope you enjoy your first Christmas with your Hogwarts family.

Yours Truly,

Anaia Q. Potter

Harry reread the note, making sure his eyes were working properly. He slowly picked up the notebook and leafed through the pages, taking in the smell of ink and paper. Tearing up, he quickly put the book down, hoping Ron didn't see him momentarily break down inside.

Only one parcel left. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulder and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A very merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Two Christmas presents that related to his father. He couldn't believe it. Ron was busy admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight while Anaia took the opportunity to sneak back downstairs before anyone noticed she was there.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not in the family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I - don't - want -" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses off.

"We're going to spend the day all together," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Christmas at Hogwarts was one of the most beautiful things on the planet. Harry had invited Anaia to sit at the Gryffindor table and enjoy the festivities. When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set.

Harry, Anaia, and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Anaia ventured off to do other things.

~Anaia's POV~

After the snowball fight, which was tons of fun, the Gryffindors went back to their common room. I just sorta left because I didn't want to overstay my welcome. It would be awkward to be the only Slytherin in the Gryffindor tower.

So after they disappeared around the corner, I sprinted back to my common room to change into something less wet. I chose a simple collared black dress with a Christmas sweater over it and my black combat boots. I grabbed my celestial bronze kopis and headed back upstairs. I'm training in a dress because if some monster attacks me, I can't be inconvenienced by what I'm wearing. My outfit will not be the cause of my death. That's lame.

'Ah. Nothing like a vacation to put you in the mood for training.'

After about an hour of that, I headed to the library to find a new book to read. I had finished my last one during my hibernation and needed to get one before Harry remembered that he was supposed to be researching. Hermione never directly told me what they were researching but I figured it out from all the little hints she unknowingly dropped.

I ate dinner with the Gryffindors and I shit you not, it was amazing. I don't understand why more people don't stay here over break. After dinner, I went back to hibernating in the middle of my common room. I'm gonna hate having to sleep in my bed when everyone gets back.

Over the next couple of days, Harry was acting kinda weird. I don't know him that well but him not eating much seemed a little odd. The snow had been piling up outside so I couldn't train much. I stopped going to the Great Hall and just had the elves bring me food as I waited for the break to come to an end.

When everyone had finally come back, Hermione asked me to help her look for some guy named Nicolas Flamel. Apparently, that's what the boys were supposed to be researching and they were having trouble finding anything.

After a bit of researching on my own, I was about ready to quit. Just as I was about to grab another book, Hermione came flying into the library with a large book.

"I - found - him!" She said out of breath. She shoved a book towards me and pointed to a part she had marked.

"The Sorcerer's Stone? I thought that was a myth," I ask, lifting my eyebrow.

"You've heard of it?"

"Father used to tell stories when I was little. I'm just now starting to realize those stories might have been about actual things in the wizarding world."

As the next quidditch game neared, it was getting blatantly obvious that Harry was freaking out. The poor thing thought Snape was going to kill him based off what Hermione was telling me. Sure, the bat was a biased jerk towards the Gryffindors, but I doubt he hated Harry enough to kill him. I have no doubt that he'll be really unfair though.

For this match, I didn't even bother trying to sit in the stands this time. It was too loud and annoying to sit with other children. Draco decided to sit behind the Ron and Hermione. I'm sure that'll end wonderfully. The game was over before I realized it had actually started. Harry had broken some kind of record for the fastest quidditch game. Snape was furious and apparently, Neville and Ron had gotten in a fight with Draco. I would've paid big money to see that.

Some time later, when Hermione and I were in the library doing homework with the boys, they told me what Harry had seen in the forest.

"It was Snape and he was trying to get Quirrell to tell him something about what's protecting the Stone."

I can see why they think that Snape's trying to steal the stone but I'm not so sure and I'd rather not add unnecessary opinions. This is already a mess without me contradicting them.

"Ok, so what does it that mean?" I ask while pulling out the pens father sent me for Christmas. I hate using quills. They're so inconvenient, like who decided that quills and parchment out of all things were necessary for a wizard school.

"The Stone's only safe for as long as Quirrell can stand up to Snape."

A. N. - This chapter is soooo short. I'm really disappointed in myself for it but the show must go on. Chapters will be posted no matter how disappointing they are.


	8. In which, we have a happy Hagrid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A.N. - I'm so sorry! It's like four weeks late and I'm a disappointment to my family.

~3rd person POV~

As the school year continued, Quirrell hadn't caved, though he was getting paler and thinner, and Hermione had started studying during every waking moment. 

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me...."

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. 

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly at the library window. It was the first fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. 

Anaia snorted and continued to read her history of magic book and didn't look up until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat. 

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out about who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St -"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don't go shouting about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don't go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh -"

"See you later, then," said Harry. 

Hagrid shuffled off. 

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully. 

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"How about you go check the section he was in?" Anaia asked prompting Ron to get up. He came back a moment later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table. 

"Dragons!" he whispered rather loudly. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Honestly, you guys could never be spies. Be quiet for Hades' sake!" Anaia scolded. 

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I met him," said Harry. 

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. 

"Man, I was hoping I could get one since they exist and all," mumbled Anaia. 

"Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Harry voicing Anaia's thoughts. 

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Mag has a job gushing them up, I can tell you. "Our kind have to keep putting spells on muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione. 

When they knock on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them. 

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day - Anaia thought it was still pretty cold outside - there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which everyone but Anaia refused. 

"What? I live in America. Lunches in public school cafeterias are so much worse than this," she said defensively when they shot questioning glances at her. 

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him. 

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don't know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn't tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know about Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on around here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione while Anaia sat back grinning at her best friend. 

"Well, I don't s'pose it could hurt ter tel yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall -" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell - an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Harry knew Ron and Hermione was thinking the same thing as he was; Anaia didn't look worried at all. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything - except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get pass Fluffy. 

"You're the only one who knows how to get pass Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly. 

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

~Anaia's POV~

We've been sitting in Hagrid's hut for awhile now and no one has noticed the fireplace. 

"Can't, Harry, sorry," Hagrid said in response to Harry asking to open a window. 

"Hagrid - what's that?"

'Apparently he's noticed it now.'

In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. 

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's - er..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you gonna do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione. 

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin', said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library - Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit - it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here."

'I can't believe it. He's trying to keep the dragon.'

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't. 

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said. 

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. 

So now we have something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut. 

"Wonder what it's like have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework we were getting. Princess Hermione had now started making study schedules for the three of us, too.

Then, one breakfast time, an owl dropped a note from Hagrid on my plate. I looked over at Harry and it seemed that he had gotten it, too. It said two words: it's hatching.

At some point, later that morning, I was walking with Draco and heard Ron whispering rather loudly. Draco stopped a few feet from the Gryffindors and was listening to their conversation with a look of triumph on his face.

When the bell sounded at the end of my lesson, I ran down to Hagrid's hut just as Hermione had told me. I got there just as Hagrid was ushering them inside. We all pulled up our chairs and stared at the the cracking egg on the table.

All at once, there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It had huge wings that looked out of place on its small, jet black body.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of it's snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers showing pointed fangs. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid.

I had torn my eyes from the dragon just in time to see Draco peeking through the window. My eyes widened before I quickly glared at him, silently telling him to leave.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, " how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. The disgusted look on his face meant he recognized the snake from even this far.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were unable to hide they're nervousness during the next week, and Draco's little smile wasn't helping. He refused to tell me what he was going to do with that information, only saying that it was going to be fun. 

The others had been trying to convince Hagrid to set the dragon - whose name is Norbert, how cute! - free, with little success. The half giant hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy.

~3rd person pov~

They had decided that it was best to send Norbert to Romania so Charlie could look after him. The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall just struck midnight when the portrait how burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, and by the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me, he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window. 

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter -- I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Charlie

They looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult -- I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert -- and Malfoy.


End file.
